


Watershed

by storm_of_sharp_things



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: About Time (2013 film), Building a relationship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Pining Eames (Inception), Time Travel, one fixit at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/pseuds/storm_of_sharp_things
Summary: Eames has the ability to travel back in time and make changes in personal events. He's been trying to use it to get together with Arthur since they first met, but Arthur has proven to be a difficult target in an terribly uncooperative universe. But love, with the dubious help of Yusuf, must prevail!...right?
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	Watershed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soup/gifts).



> It's finally done!   
> The prompt was for an Arthur/Eames fic based on the 2013 movie About Time, with Eames as the time traveller. 
> 
> And this was a delightfully twisty fic to write, even if it took far too long to allow itself to be fixed in words.

Eames watched Arthur’s backside as he and his snug trousers moved around the room.

“You’re being painfully obvious,” Ariadne hissed.

“So?” he muttered. “He can’t say anything worse than ‘no’ over and over again.”

“He can shoot you,” Yusuf offered helpfully.

Eames smiled and shrugged. “True. But it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He can be terrifying in dreams, can’t he?” Ariadne snickered.

“...in dreams. Yeah.”

Yusuf frowned and leaned closer. “I don’t remember Arthur actually shooting you. Threats, yes,” he whispered.

“Well, you _wouldn’t_ remember it, would you?” Eames said under his breath. Yusuf eyed him sidelong, but let it go.

* * *

_Eames limped along the corridor, looking for a dark supply closet or somewhere similar. He was leaving a thin trail of blood from the hole in his foot, but it wouldn’t matter soon._

_It had been more than idiotic to have cornered Arthur at the end of such a tough job, much less after far too much alcohol on Eames’ part. The chemistry between them had been there ever since they’d first met, but no matter how many shared glances or brushed shoulders or hips, Arthur had always been standoffish in response to any actual advances._

_But Eames had come terrifyingly close to limbo after the mark reacted badly to the Somnacin, and he’d sought refuge in the nearest bar after they’d left the site. He’d had too much to drink, but it had been a rough dream, and then it seemed reasonable that he was owed an answer out of Arthur, one way or the other, so they could move on to the next step. Yeah. They both needed a bit of stress relief, anyway, and what was better than amazing sex? And Eames was frankly amazing at sex, even if he had to say so himself._

_So he’d ignored the impatience with which Arthur had answered his offer. Well, more than impatience, really, but..._

_“But, Arrrrthurrr,” he’d wheedled, leaning close and ignoring how Arthur leaned away._

_“You’re drunk. Go away, Eames.”_

_“It could be such a lovely...”_

_“Mr Eames. You’re not listening.” Arthur’s voice was cold but Eames knew he could warm him, given half a chance._

_“Aww now...”_

_“Last. Warning.”_

_“Oh, Arthur, don’t be such a stick in...”_

_The echo of the shot had barely died away before Arthur was across the room with his satchel. “Don’t expect any further jobs, Mr Eames. I dislike a colleague who can’t take a hint unless it’s applied with a bullet.”_

_In shock, waves of agony radiating up from his foot, Eames barely saw him go. All he could think of was finding somewhere dark so he could go back in time and make sure this never happened._

_When he finally found an interior bathroom, he slipped inside, shutting down the lights. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, and remembered standing in front of the bar earlier and deciding to go have a couple of drinks._

_Opening his eyes again, he was on the street a few hours earlier, coldly sober, staring at the door to the bar. He sighed and turned away, grateful at least that the pain in his foot had disappeared. It’d certainly take his shame far longer to subside._

* * *

Yusuf found him pacing on the roof after the meeting was done.

“It was a long time ago,” Eames muttered without meeting Yusuf’s eyes. “I didn’t know him very well then, and I was much more of a prick than I am now. Especially drunk.” Eames had to suppress a wince even now. He hadn’t gotten bladdered like that since.

“ _More_ of a prick? Difficult to believe, let me tell you. I’m impressed that he _didn’t_ shoot to kill. He must have _some_ feelings for you.”

“Have I done something recently to deserve this cruelty? Please, tell me so I can go back and fix it.”

“I can’t say I believe you about this time travel thing,” Yusuf said with a shrug, leaning on the railing next to Eames.

Eames shrugged back. “Difficult to prove since you wouldn’t remember any changes.”

“I suppose.” There was a lengthy pause. “I’ve been meaning to ask - why tell me? I’m sure you don’t just go around telling people about this. I’d’ve heard rumors if you’d been committed. Oh, unless you went and changed that, of course.”

“You’re a sarky bastard, but you’re also clever, and there must be some scraps of your scientific training left.”

“Well, fuck you very much, too, Eames.”

“I wanted to lay it out to you, see if I can make it make sense to an outside perspective. My memory is...complicated. Full of loops that can be hard to track. Not all of them are important, but I need to see if I can get the main points across.”

Yusuf scowled. “Sounds like you should be writing bad science fiction for television.”

“Yeah, well, dreamshare pays a lot better.”

“All right, but why go to all the trouble of fiddling with time?” Yusuf demanded. “What I mean is, why _him?_ Why Arthur? I know for a fact that you don’t have a lack of other offers. Far less standoffish ones, certainly.”

Eames huffed a weary laugh. “D’you know how many times I’ve asked myself that? You have no idea how often I’ve said ‘enough’ and walked away, only to find myself taking yet another job when he calls. I moved to fucking Mombasa, mate, just to make it more unlikely that he’d show up in person.”

“Steady on, _I_ live there...”

_“My point is,_ I don’t really know why. Just that it’s Arthur.”

“All right, all right.” Yusuf glanced around the cityscape thoughtfully. “Well, there’s surely no accounting for taste.”

Eames couldn’t help a flash of wry offense on Arthur’s behalf. “He’s an amazing catch, you wanker. Has been all along.”

* * *

_He first met Arthur during a shaky job in Manila, early on in dreamshare. The suit and the cool professionalism, despite Arthur’s obvious youth, had been intriguing on their own, but the real arousal had hit about four hours later, during an ambush by the mark’s bodyguards. Watching Arthur handle the tactics of an aggressive defense, and his weapons, had given Eames an inescapable desire to have those deft capable hands on him._

_They hadn’t had time to explore any possibilities then, but the next job he’d worked with Arthur had gone very smoothly, indeed._

_But when he asked Arthur out at the end of it, Arthur just gave him a faint smile and said he had another job coming up immediately. A pity Eames hadn’t asked earlier, Arthur added; he might have been able to change his travel plans._

_So he’d gone back in time to just after the first dream of the job, when it had become apparent that the entire team was working beautifully together and that the extraction would be a breeze. He waited until all the others had left the room before quietly asking Arthur if he’d consider dinner or drinks after the job._

_And Arthur smiled faintly and told him he’d have to wait and see how the job turned out, and perhaps to ask him then._

* * *

“So he wasn’t interested from the start,” Yusuf said with an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

Eames grimaced. “He doesn’t turn me down outright, he deflects everything. And you know Arthur doesn’t do subtle for stuff that he absolutely doesn’t want...”

“But you’re not one to take hints.”

“Of _course_ I did, at first,” he protested. “It’s not as if there’s a particular shortage of trim backsides that make even off-the-rack suits look good. I used to dally elsewhere a lot.”

“Wait. Arthur once wore ready-made?”

“Yusuf.”

The chemist snickered. “Fine. But you kept after him. All this time.”

“Yeah,” Eames sighed, looking at his hands. Job after job with Arthur had left him with the growing sensation that, if he were to admit to a center of gravity, it was the distant, competent, dangerous point man that formed the core.

He’d learned to be far less overt in his yearning, though. Arthur didn’t respond well to pressure. And if Eames’ frustration often led to a kind of childish bickering, well, Arthur usually bickered back, so that was progress, surely?

“If you were happy with a pigtail-pulling two-step...”

“Of course I wasn’t happy with it! He just doesn’t get involved with people in dreamshare. Apparently.” Eames hoped the pause before ‘apparently’ wasn’t obvious. “And it gave me something to build on, didn’t it?”

Yusuf hummed. “So if Arthur has never been interested, why keep at him?”

“He _is_ interested, he just...”

“Eames.” Yusuf said with a scowl. “No means no, my friend.”

“Oh, fuck off. That’s not what I’m saying. If he’d ever flat-out said so, I’d’ve cleared off. I just meant that he’s cautious, that he doesn’t trust anyone in dreamshare enough to have a ‘relationship’. I feel almost like this has been a test of sorts.”

“So this dance of being persistent enough to show interest but not annoying enough to get shot for it...how’s it going for you?”

Eames looked away. “Humans are naturals at it. We survived by persistence hunting,” he muttered.

“Eames, _you_ have all the natural patience of a hungry puppy.”

Eames growled. That was true enough, but chasing Arthur had taught him the value of patience and persistence. It had paid off occasionally; Eames remembered the original end of the Lochlainn job very well.

* * *

_They’d been riding the train for a few hours, leaving the job behind. An easy one, for once. Arthur had fallen asleep in the seat next to him and slowly, slowly, leaned into Eames’ shoulder. When he decided the slight scent of the gel Arthur used on his hair had tantalized him for too long, Eames stopped resisting the irresistible and nuzzled Arthur’s forehead gently, tenderly, savoring the warmth of the skin under his lips. Arthur’s head rolled back sleepily, his eyes barely open as he gazed at Eames, and Eames dared to brush a light kiss at the corner of Arthur’s mouth. To his wonder, Arthur turned to meet the kiss and Eames groaned quietly at the soft response of Arthur’s mouth under his._

* * *

“I’m guessing this story ends up with you finding a hotel at the next train station,” Yusuf said with an eyeroll. “I don’t need the gory details.”

Eames huffed in amusement. “Yeah, all right. No specifics then, but it was everything I’d ever fantasized about.”

“Okay, yes, great. Skipping ahead a bit...”

Eames shrugged. “The next morning, Haako Heikkinen’s men broke in. We were still in bed, we went for our guns, but they were ready for us. I pulled the bedspread over my head and hoped it was dark enough to trigger a time jump.”

“So these rules you mentioned - that you need go a dark space to make a change...”

“Look, they’re more sort of guidelines,” Eames growled.

“Mmm _hmm.”_

“Do you want the story or would you prefer to continue your research for a paper on temporal paradox theory?”

Yusuf snorted. “Right, right. So since it obviously worked...”

“I went back in time a bit to discuss things with Heikkenen.”

“You mean you killed him.”

“I ended up having to, yeah. The man had sent fucking assassins over a simple misunderstanding.” Eames glanced down and then back up, very serious. “And they killed Arthur, before turning on me. He wasn’t even involved. And that, I couldn’t overlook.”

Yusuf looked faintly uncomfortable.

“I’m not sorry I did it, Yusuf, if that’s what you’re considering digging after.”

Yusuf grimaced. “No, we’re none of us paragons of morality.” He was silent a moment. “So anyway, by killing Heikkinen, you obviously changed the present so that you and Arthur couldn’t get together after the job.”

Eames sighed. “Arthur knew Interpol was looking for me as a person of interest. He was pissed off at what he considered to be a careless stunt, and he sent me off as soon as the job was done.”

“Leaving you with only memories of a timeline that didn’t happen.”

Eames shrugged. “It gets pretty complex in my head.”

“It occurs to me that there are a lot of lives changed by your ‘adjustments’.”

“Hey, I don’t make these changes lightly. I know other people are affected. People sometimes live who might have died, or die who might have lived.” Eames scowled. “I don’t make tiny changes to save myself embarrassment or anything. Just...”

“But it sounds like not much matters except trying to get together with Arthur.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course other people matter. Jesus, I’ve already given up one timeline with Arthur to save _your_ sorry arse...” Eames looked away. “Fuck, forget I said anything.”

Yusuf frowned. “Eames...”

“I said forget it.”

“Well, now you _have_ to tell me.”

Eames tapped the railing with his fingers a few times, then sighed. “I had almost a full month with him. It was amazing.”

“And what happened?” He was clearly doing his best not to sound skeptical.

“You did.”

“Oh, come now.”

“Look, mate, have I ever seen you naked, to the best of your knowledge?”

“Of course not!”

“Then let me tell you about the scar way up on the inside of your left thigh, right beside your bollocks. The one that looks like someone was aiming to cut them off?”

Yusuf blinked, hard. “That...”

“Because someone did try, didn’t they? It was Shani’s brothers who ambushed you in an alley but you were saved by a little old lady on an upper floor who dumped a box of forks on them.”

“I’ve never told anyone that!”

“Well, you told me. Granted, you were dying at the time...”

“Right. Let’s hear about this.”

* * *

_It had been the sheerest coincidence, catching a glimpse of Arthur across the crowded arrivals terminal in Prague. Eames waded through the crowd, grinning like a helpless fool as he moved cautiously into Arthur’s visual range. Arthur’s faint answering smile, one corner of his mouth tucked up, encouraged Eames to come all the way over._

_“Got time for a cup of coffee or something?” Eames asked hopefully._

_Arthur tilted his head. “You here for a job?”_

_“Nah, it’s Carnevale time in Prague.”_

_“Ahhh. That’s why there’s no hotel rooms available.”_

_“You working here?”_

_“No, got re-routed and figured I’d take a day or two here. Never been.”_

_Eames grinned even wider. “Arthur, would you like to share my hotel room and be treated to some delicious food and drink while experiencing one of the more whimsical carnivals in the world?”_

_Arthur considered him for a moment and then gave him a rare smile. “Sure.”_

_The second night, after a fine dinner, drinks in a little jazz club, and getting caught up in an impromptu parade led by three revelers in bear costumes, they returned to the hotel, a bit beer-splattered from a mishap involving one of the drunken bears, a tall woman in a mirrored domino, and a perfectly innocent lamppost. Eames immediately stripped and headed for the shower. He was entirely unprepared for Arthur to strip and join him._

_“Er,” he said intelligently, his cock twitching as Arthur pushed him closer to the wall to get access to the warm water._

_“Don’t be greedy,” Arthur murmured, his eyes closed under the flow. He ran his hands through his hair, face tilted up, and reached for the shampoo bottle blindly._

_Eames guided his hand back down. “I’ve got you, petal,” he said a little hoarsely. He poured shampoo into his hand and began rubbing it into Arthur’s hair, carefully keeping it away from Arthur’s face._

_Arthur opened his eyes to watch him lazily, his hands lifting to rest at Eames’ hips. His mouth curved in a pleased smile as Eames stroked his fingers through the dark strands, massaging Arthur’s scalp. He hadn’t had a chance to shower with Arthur yet, in any timeline, and he was going to savor it as long as he could._

_Once rinsed, Arthur turned them so Eames was under the spray. “Your turn,” he said when Eames made a sound of protest._

_“...Arthur, I don’t have that much control.”_

_He smirked. “Maybe I don’t want you to have control right now. Maybe I want to make you come in the shower.”_

_“Oh god, darling,” Eames groaned, fully erect and aching. “That’s not any kind of accomplishment right now.”_

_Arthur leaned close, trailing his fingers down Eames’ wet chest and belly to gently curl his fingers around Eames’ cock. “Then come for me,” he murmured against Eames’ mouth as he tightened his grip._

_Eames moaned, clutching Arthur’s shoulders as his hips jerked. It only took a few strokes before he was coming all over Arthur’s stomach and hand. Arthur’s pleased growl triggered a few more aftershocks and then Eames was sagging back against the tiles, blinking and panting._

_Arthur reached up and calmly shampooed Eames’ hair, running his hands through in a rather possessive manner, a little smirk curling his mouth._

_They missed most of the rest of carnival._

* * *

“You went suspiciously quiet there,” Yusuf said.

Eames smiled dreamily. “You didn’t want to hear about...”

“Right! Okay! So you hooked up! And then?”

“We flew to Chicago, to a beautiful little brownstone Arthur keeps there. In the mornings, I’d walk down the street to the neighborhood bakery for fresh pastries and coffee while Arthur stayed burrowed under the covers.” Eames smirked. “You wouldn’t know it on jobs, but our Arthur is _not_ normally a morning person.”

“Still more than I want to know, thanks. Where do I come in for blame in this fantasy?”

“About two weeks later, you texted me. You were in the hospital in Mombasa, dying far too slowly of a poison the doctors were having trouble identifying. Arthur and I flew out to you immediately.”

* * *

_“Bertal,” Yusuf rasped as soon as they walked in his room. “I need you to kill him for me after I’m dead.”_

_“Tell us what happened,” Arthur ordered. Eames could tell he was strictly controlling his reactions but Eames was having a hard time doing the same. Yusuf was a mass of bleeding lesions all over his body, his skin and flesh sagging around his bones._

_“Bertal happened.” Yusuf coughed weakly, a trace of bloody froth appearing. “Said he had a ‘partnership opportunity.’ I told him to bugger off my territory and take his third-class cut-rate crap potions back to his cheap-arse military friends since there was no way I was sharing my formulas with him.”_

_Arthur looked faintly skeptical. “He poisoned you for that?”_

_“No.” Yusuf sneered, exposing gaps where a few teeth had apparently fallen out. “There was an attempted raid on my shop. Clumsy bastards broke almost everything they could find, but I don’t keep my real stock out like that.” He lifted his chin, weak but arrogant. “I leaked some information that led to most of his assets being seized. By his very same military friends, so I know it wasn’t them. Did them a favor, didn’t I, getting them loose from such an incompetent twat?”_

_Arthur frowned. “Let me go make a couple of calls.” He turned and strode out._

_“Much good it will do him,” Yusuf rasped. “Or me, for that matter.” He shifted uncomfortably._

_Eames’ heart was beating faster in dread. “Is there anything that can be done?”_

_“You can help fix this bloody tubing that’s taped to my leg. It’s got a mean pinch going and I can’t reach.” Yusuf tugged at the blanket and Eames folded it back carefully._

_“Damn, that’s a hell of a scar there,” Eames said, raising his eyebrow as he adjusted the tubing gently. “Looks like you were nearly castrated.”_

_Yusuf wheezed. “Nearly was. You remember Shani? Her brothers cornered me in an alley once.”_

_“I warned you about her family.”_

_“Yes, yes, you were right, let me take a little time out from dying for you to get an “I told you so” in.”_

_Eames huffed at him. “Obviously you got away though.”_

_Yusuf laughed, a wet bubbling in his chest making Eames wince. “Old lady four floors up poured out a box of cutlery on us because of the shouting.” He laughed again and then coughed blood and then the medical equipment started screaming alarms. Medical staff descended and pushed Eames out into the hallway with much shouting and Arthur came and pulled him away with a hand on his shoulder._

_Silence fell in the room behind them. Eames clenched his fists and refrained from punching the wall, just barely. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He turned. “Arthur.”_

_Arthur’s brow furrowed at the tone in Eames’ voice. Disregarding the audience they had in the crowded hallway, Eames stepped close and cradled his face. “Arthur, I’m in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m sorry petal, I just need to say that.”_

_“Eames. What are you up to?”_

_“Just...look, I need to visit the bathroom rather urgently. Can I explain after?”_

_Arthur’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but he nodded. “There’s one right there,” he said, glancing behind Eames._

_“Perfect. Be right back, okay?”_

_Arthur crossed his arms and watched Eames go in and close the door._

* * *

Yusuf raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you gave up true love to go back in time and save my life.”

Eames shrugged at him.

“Also,” Yusuf continued. “I note that Bertal is still alive. I didn’t rate a vengeance murder?”

“Well, I didn’t want to fuck with his military friends and draw attention to me, did I? I contacted him, one dreamsharer to another, you know, all friendly concern – I’d heard a rumour that a few point men had been asked to look into something concerning him, not, you know, that anyone was necessarily accepting that commission, and, of course I didn’t know any details, but I felt he ought to be aware. Maybe he needed to take a hard look at his contacts, yeah?”

Yusuf snorted. “Thereby ratcheting his paranoia up to twenty billion or so and making it impossible for _anyone_ to work with him for some time.”

Eames smiled.

“Okay fine, so why didn’t you hook back up with Arthur again?”

“Tracking down Bertal to contact him discreetly meant I missed Carnevale in Prague. And by then, Arthur had gone to ground in some safe house or another in that way of his that makes him impossible to trace.”

“Ahhh.”

“So I took myself out of circulation to do a little mourning. Not normally a problem, but in this case, I missed an urgent message from Arthur asking me to join a team in Rome.”

Yusuf shrugged one shoulder. “These things happen occasionally.”

“I have never actually missed a message from Arthur,” Eames said wryly. “Anyway, I found out too late to accept the job and then I heard Mal died. And Cobb had fled the states, under suspicion of murder, and Arthur’d followed him.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, why didn’t you just go back and save Mal?”

Eames was silent a while, his expression distant, and then he sighed. “Mal was a lovely person. If I could’ve done anything, I would’ve. But I’ve got limitations, mate. I can’t change anything I’m not personally involved in or very close to in time and place. I hadn’t seen Mal for over a year and I was half a world away. What could I do, go back and tell her not to jump out of a window a year from then after doing some mad experimentation in limbo with her equally insane husband? She’d have just laughed and suggested better recreational drugs.”

“Oh. So do you have to re-live the time after a change?”

“Depends. If it’s a short amount of time, or a big change, then usually. If it’s a smaller change, often not. Also depends if I’m crossing changes I’ve already made. I’ve run into a few times I couldn’t go back at all.”

“Hmmm.”

Eames gave a short laugh. “Don’t bother keeping notes, there isn’t actually a scientific method at work here.”

“Obviously.”

Eames gave him a wry look. “So anyway, I didn’t see Arthur again until the Fischer job. Cobb showed up out of the blue in Mombasa to propose inception and I jumped at it, despite all the reservations I had about working with the mad bastard. After all, I’d get to see Arthur again. And how bad could it get?”

* * *

_If he never saw Dominick Cobb again, Eames thought wearily as he watched the man walk away through the airport, it would be a lifetime too soon. He turned to watch Arthur, his heart aching at the dark circles under Arthur’s eyes and the weary slump to his shoulders._

_Eames moved past a wilted-looking Ari, dropping a surreptitious pat on her shoulder as he went, and stood near Arthur at the taxi stand._

_“Share a cab?” he asked quietly. For a moment, his heart leapt as Arthur’s tired scowl softened._

_But then his expression smoothed out again. “You don’t look a reliable sort to me, sir. I don’t believe it’d be wise.”_

_Eames blinked. “Is this still about missing the job in Rome?” he hissed, glancing around to see if Fischer was anywhere near._

_“There was no job in Rome,” Arthur said blandly. “There was something handled by another team with all its pieces in play, but clearly it had nothing to do with you or me.”_

_Eames winced. If Arthur was almost unreasonably fierce about his reputation, it was with some justification. Dreamshare ran on reputation. And while supporting Cobb had been a mad decision, it at least showed loyalty. A lost job was a much bigger blow._

_“Good day, Mr Eames,” Arthur said, distant and unforgiving, as he slid into a waiting cab and pulled the door shut._

* * *

“So of course I had to go back to take the bloody Rome job,” Eames growled. “And that went fine, only Arthur got called back to the states right at the end of the job, when Mal jumped.

But then, when I showed up for the Fischer job, it wasn’t Ariadne as bloody architect, was it? It was this little tit of a gasper who still had ligature marks on his neck from his last wank session. _And_ he kept pulling out this binder from some damn ancient black project, full of photocopied and half-censored instructions for ‘the application of paradoxical architecture in small-scale tactical actions’.” Eames scowled at the memory.

“Except that Ariadne _was_ our architect,” Yusuf pointed out mildly.

“Well, I saw which way the wind was blowing, didn’t I? We’d barely made it out of the Fischer job the first time. So I buggered off to find a dark corner to undo the change I’d made. I hated leaving Arthur pissed off like that, but there’d be no fixing _anything_ if I’m dead, or worse.”

Yusuf frowned. “So just changing that one tiny thing, taking the job in Rome, changed everything drastically from that point on.”

“Yeah. It happens sometimes. And that’s an example of something else important – these moments I call watersheds.”

“I presume you mean a major milestone or turning point and not a flow of water from one area to another.”

“Twat. Inception was one of those. What it means is that I can’t change anything earlier than the Fischer job or I risk us all dying in that fucked-up treacherous mess.”

“Look, I said I was sorry.”

Eames waved that aside. “Yusuf, you’re a right bastard but I’m assuming you never intended to condemn us all to limbo.”

“At the very least, I wouldn’t have been there with you all.”

Eames snorted. “Fair enough.”

“So these watersheds, they limit how far back or how much you can change.”

“Yeah. They’re like...points of stability, right? I’d go utterly mad if there were no limits at all to this jumping around. So sometimes they’re like fences across a field – a warning not to go any further. But sometimes they’re like steps on a staircase. A mark of progress, something to build further on. A sign that I don’t have to backtrack too far in case something happens.”

“But it sounds like, so far, something always has.”

Eames let his head drop forward and his shoulders slump. “I’m just...fuck, Yusuf, I get so tired of redoing steps all the time. Making headway only to lose it, partially or entirely, to some weird twist of the universe.”

“Mmm. Have you considered that maybe the universe doesn’t _want_ you together?” Yusuf leaned back against the railing and raised an eyebrow at him. “If it’s this difficult to make progress?”

“Christ, if I’d known it would be like this way back at the beginning when I first met him...” Eames stared off into the distance, then shook his head. “Nah, I’d be lying to myself. I fell for him, hard, practically since that first handshake. And I’ve never been able to shake it.” He sighed again. “And I’ve made progress, passed several watersheds relatively safely.”

Yusuf looked away from the unguarded expression Eames was wearing. “So you’ve worked two or three jobs since Fischer, including this one – obviously Arthur’s forgiven you.”

Eames hummed thoughtfully. “To a point, sure. But it’s still nowhere close to what we’ve occasionally had. What’s possible between us. And I’m trying to discover if there’s a way to circumvent some of these steps, without compromising what we could build.”

“And this is what you want my help with? Not just to listen to your litany of woes?”

Eames barked a laugh. “Guess I’m glad I didn’t tell you because I was looking for sympathy.”

Yusuf shrugged. “So is it help or sympathy you want?”

“Well, it’s nice to be able to talk about it to anyone, innit? But really, Yusuf,” Eames turned to look in the direction of the roof door, “this is all for the benefit of Arthur, who’s listening in while you pump me for details.”

Yusuf blinked. “How did you...”

Eames laughed. “This isn’t the first time, mate. Arthur is stubborn as fuck and I’ve got a thick head myself. It takes me multiple tries sometimes to get things settled just right, to make the possibilities open up. To engineer a watershed moment, instead of waiting for it to happen.”

Yusuf’s head jerked around as the stairway door swung open, but Eames just smiled as Arthur walked out into the roof.

“It must be very important to you to get things right, Mr Eames,” Arthur said, his head cocked in curiosity.

“It really is, darling.” Eames watched him with a soft expression, fond and affectionate.

“It certainly explains a great deal. Especially your occasionally inconsistent behavior over the years.” Arthur stalked around him in a slow circle. Yusuf backed away, out of the immediate sphere of interaction.

“Well,” Eames said easily, “learning can sometimes be a long painful process, full of resets. But I’m the only one who had to go through them, so it’s not something that would necessarily make sense to anyone else.”

“And you hoped to skip several steps by telling me all this, however indirectly?”

Eames’ smile combined something wry and wistful. “I know better than to hope for that, petal. But my longstanding thing for you is hardly news. So I haven’t lost anything by making this attempt, you see?”

“But what could you gain, beyond risking that I would think you’d lost your mind?” Each slow circle Arthur was making around Eames was a little smaller, bringing him closer and closer.

“You,” Eames said simply.

“How many timelines have you supposedly gone through in all these years? How many dead ends, how many mistakes and poor decisions have you had to backtrack on?”

A soft laugh. “Oh, Arthur. We are the most star-crossed pair you could imagine. Thousands, probably. I stopped counting so long ago and just concentrated on making progress.”

Arthur came to a halt directly in front of him. “How could all that possibly be worth it?”

“It is, love, believe me,” Eames whispered.

Arthur tilted his head, considering. “I would never just jump into a relationship cold.”

“I know.” Eames’ words were barely audible.

A smile flickered across Arthur’s face. “But then this isn’t exactly a cold start, is it?” Eames shook his head slowly, eyes wide. “How many times have you kissed me?”

“Not enough,” Eames breathed. “Never enough.”

“Hmmm. So you claim some practice, some knowledge of my preferences?” A tiny smirk curled the corner of Arthur’s mouth up even as his chin lifted slightly in challenge.

“Oh holy fuck, Arthur, please, _please,_ let me show you what I’ve learned about your preferences.”

Arthur leaned in a little, his eyes going sly and half-lidded, and touched the tip of his tongue to his lips, a tiny kittenish motion that had Eames groaning.

Eames ran his hands through his own hair roughly. “God, why do I always forget how much you like to play the tease?”

“You seem so very susceptible to it,” Arthur murmured. His smile curled wickedly as they heard the roof door close behind Yusuf’s hasty retreat. “Eames.”

He reached out and tugged Eames closer by a belt loop and Eames surged forward into the kiss, using every memory of pleasing Arthur with his mouth and hands that he could dig up.

As Arthur moaned in response, pulling him closer, Eames felt the moment solidify into the stability he’d been chasing for so long. A new watershed gently crystallized around them and then began receding as he finally moved forward past the volatility.

The relief was enough to make his knees weak, and Arthur leaned away to study his face for a long moment. Then he smiled and took Eames’ hand. “I expect you to provide further proof of all this practice,” he said with a smirk, pulling him toward the roof door and into the unknown future.


End file.
